


Sony, I Just Wrote You Twelve Minutes of Screen Time

by perach



Category: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Awesome Michelle Jones, BAMF Michelle Jones, F/M, Nightmares, Oneshot, Peter Parker Has Nightmares, Spider-Man: Far From Home (Movie), Spider-Man: Far From Home (Movie) Spoilers, no beta we die like men, quentin beck is a bad bitch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-05
Updated: 2019-07-05
Packaged: 2020-06-09 20:27:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19483399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/perach/pseuds/perach
Summary: On the plane back home, Peter's consciousness gives him a surprise.





	Sony, I Just Wrote You Twelve Minutes of Screen Time

**Author's Note:**

> since this was posted july 5th (at 1 am), i have to legally say SPIDER-MAN: FAR FROM HOME SPOILERS  
> theres probably mistakes in this i just wanted to get something ffh-related posted soz gamers

On the plane ride back home to Queens, Peter didn't sleep. It was overnight and 7 hours long. MJ was about to fall asleep as they continued some podcast about the zodiac killer and MJ was looking through Twitter. A handful of people on the plane were still awake, on their phones or laptops. But something was off.

He felt like everything around him wasn't real. As if Mysterio- *Quentin* could jump out at any moment. As if the MJ's hair tickling his cheek was fake. It could've been anything. He waited and waited, hoping his tingle (he needed a new name for that) would alert him of danger. And what if it didn't? What if Quentin came on the plane and shot everybody? Peter had to be there. He had to be the hero. What if he wasn't really dead? What if that was an illusion, too? What if the drones were still active?

Peter was sure none of this was true and that he was wrong, but his anxiety told him otherwise. Beck had to still be out there- he had to be. Peter started to zone out, but when he snapped back his heart was beating hard. He was in danger. Something was wrong. Peter gripped his seat, squeezing it tightly. MJ sat up a little, snapping out of her obvious daze. Something was different.

"Peter, what... what're you doing still awake?" She asked, rubbing her eyes with her sleeve. The boy didn't look at her, embarrassed to say why. He would sound stupid. He's Spider-Man for god's sake, he saved the world. Kind of.

Did he?

"Just can't exactly fall asleep. I'm fine, I promise. Just go back to sleep." Peter was used to lying when it came to his health. He was used to doing that. Ever since he came back, and ever since Tony... Peter had just been quiet about how he was feeling. He knew May was having troubles relocating and didn't want to add onto it.

"I wasn't really asleep. Tell me what's wrong, Pete. Is it like..." She lowered her voice. "Superhero stuff?" Peter quickly looked away, staring at someone diagonal to them, away from MJ.

"No, it's just... everything. Trying to recount the past few days has just been...a lot. All on my own." Peter ran his fingers over the edges of the EDITH sunglasses. "Just some emotional stuff. Stuff about Tony, just... in shock about the last week."

"That's not true." MJ cut through the lies. "That's not why you're awake. What's wrong?"

"MJ, can you do me a favor?" Peter finally looked at her. Her face was poorly illuminated, but it was beautiful as ever. Per usual. But something was kind of... off. It wasn't exactly... *her*.

"Of course, what's up?" She sat up a bit straighter, visibly concerned.

"Tell me something only you would know."

"Do you think I'm a fake? Peter-"

"Please." Peter cut her off, his voice cutting him off to bite back tears. "Just tell me something only you'd know."

"Hm, Ned knows you're S-M." S-M was the codename for Spider-Man, because wow, is that super code. Ned wasn't all that creative.

"No, tell me something before the trip. Before Mys- before Quinten." Peter's concern grew and he was scared of the next answer he got.

"I can't." She lowered her voice.

Peter whipped around to look at her. "What? Why?"

"He's here." She whispered. She sounded genuinely scared.

"What? Who-" Peter panicked. He reached forward,

Peter reached forward to put a hand on her cheek, trying to test if she was real, but his hand kept moving, her face glitching blue. He immediately retracted his arm, his hands flying to unbuckle his seatbelt to run but he pressed as hard as he could and nothing happened. He was trapped. The seatbelt felt like it got tighter and tighter, and he kept trying to break free. Something was wrong.

"Let go of me, Beck!"

"You won't even say my name. The name you created. Mysterio." The villain was nowhere to be seen but he was everywhere. Peter looked around, panicking. Quentin was standing at the very front of the plane. "Where's Tony, Peter?"

"He's-" Before Peter could finish, he was cut off by the noise of all the passengers, all except MJ (who remained frozen in the position she had been when Peter touched her), and every seat was replaced with Iron Man suits. All a bit different than the last- definitely ones from over the years.

"Dead!" Quentin barked in his face. He hadn't walked over, he had suddenly appeared. "But I'm not Tony Stark. I don't just die. I'll never be gone, Peter. You don't know if I'm really dead."

"I do- the- the projectors, they're all gone. They exploded."

"They didn't explode, Peter. They may have gone away, but they're still there. We have a satellite. And don't worry, soon your little goggles will be useless to you. 'Even Dead I'm The Hero', man, you praised him? He's nothing but a conceited moron. And now what is he? Dead."

"You aren't real!" He yelled.

"You don't know if I am or not. You're in denial, Peter."

"The projectors- they're all gone! And if they aren't, I have control of them! You have no control!"

"You have projectors, I have a team with Stark-like technology. Much more than you do, because you said it yourself. You aren't ready to be an Avenger. You're just a little kid."

"You aren't real." Peter spat.

"Prove it." Quentin fucking smiled. Peter shot a web at his chest, but it didn't go through. He was real. The man laughed, grabbing Peter's wrist. "I'm as real as you'll get."

The teen jolted forward, gasping for breath. He took deep breaths, assessing his surroundings. His hands shook and he looked to the other passengers. The same as they were before Quentin appeared. The few conscious people glanced at the teen because it looked as if Peter had just run a marathon the way he was panting. Or that Peter was having an anxiety attack, which he was on the brink of. He knew he'd wake MJ, but he unbuckled (thankfully, it retracted this time) and adjusted her so she was sitting up on her own and not on Peter's shoulder.

Going into the bathroom and locking the door, Peter held himself up with the sink counter, feeling as if he'd collapse. Taking deep breaths, Peter splashed water on his face. He had nobody to text, nobody to call. So he didn't. His phone was charging in his bag, anyway. He had plugged in his phone before whatever... that was. A nightmare? Hallucination? Another illusion?

Peter rubbed his eyes and assumed it was a nightmare, he was tired and his head felt foggy. He dried his face, staring in the mirror. He looked fine. He fixed his hair a little and took a deep breath before exiting.

Peter returned and MJ was, once again, awake. "Did you piss yourself?" She asked, throwing him off guard. He returned to his seat, not buckling.

"What?"

"You got up really fast and ran to the bathroom." MJ shrugged, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes.

"No, no, no that's not- that's not what that was." Peter stumbled over her words. "I just had to- had to, uh, take a call."

"You're a godawful liar, Peter. You know this, right? This isn't your first time learning this information?"

"I'm fine." Peter felt anything but. His shoulders were tense and his- not tingle, the 6th sense was going off like crazy. "But, um," He felt like this would trigger Quentin to jump out again, but he asked anyway. "Can you do me a favor?"

"With limits." She raised an eyebrow.

"Tell me something about us that happened before the trip. Nothing you talked about while on the trip, completely unrelated, something only you would know."

MJ thought a bit. "In Freshman year, Flash once put shaving cream in your locker and filled it entirely. You smelled like aftershave for like, three weeks. He had to buy you a few of the books he ruined." She said it like it was just yesterday and had no problem recounting the details.

"Okay, wow, specific." Peter smiled a little, looking down at the backpack between his feet. His suit wasn't in it, he had asked Happy to take it if security checked his bag again. But he did have his backup tucked away, deep at the bottom. His main suitcase had gotten... well, blown up.

"Why do you ask?"

Peter wasn't telling her he had a nightmare as if he was eight and a half years old. Peter was a teenager. Teenagers didn't say "nightmare". Though it nearly slipped out. It's the word Tony used (Bucky sometimes got night terrors). "Just thinking about Mysterio."

"Me too. He's dead, isn't he?"

"Yeah. He is." He sighed. "I'm an idiot for trusting him." Peter held the sunglasses close to his heart. "I can't believe I did that."

"It happens."

"Not to normal kids."

"I don't like normal." She leaned over and kissed his cheek. "I'll take this shift."

"Shift?" Peter looked at her confusedly.

"I can tell you're like, freaking out. I'll wake you if needed, but I doubt you will. Get some rest."

"You sure?"

"Positive, Pete. You just owe me a swing through the city."

"Promise." He yawned, leaning back. "Thank you."

"Of course. Get some sleep, superhero."

Peter slept Mysterio-free dreams.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading broskis, my tumblr (where u can request shit, or just Yell With Me) is perach-ao3


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